


Cantare

by CherieoftheDragons (SignCherie)



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Autism, Depression, F/M, Italian Mafia, Karaoke, Martial Arts, eventual smut probably, mention of drugs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-28
Updated: 2016-10-28
Packaged: 2018-08-27 14:52:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8405968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SignCherie/pseuds/CherieoftheDragons
Summary: Zevran never goes beyond casual dalliances, and Raven Surana has no time for commitment. And yet these two can't seem to stay away from each other...Modern AU.2/13/18: I have no plans to continue this work.





	

**Author's Note:**

> My thanks to Aphreal and Chenria for building this world with me, to Aphreal for being a wonderful beta, and to gaurdian9sunshine for her help with characterization.

“Karaoke.”

“Yes.”

“You and me.”

“Yes.”

Raven stared at Jowan across the library table. “Why?”

“Because it’s fun! Really, Raven. Don’t you remember fun? It’s when you let go a little. Do something enjoyable.”

“I enjoy my books. And my studies.”

“But doesn’t it stress you out? Working all the time?”

“When I get stressed, I read. Occasionally I watch TV. There was an adaptation of _Northanger Abbey_  on last night--”

Jowan groaned.

Raven didn’t know what was strange about that. “It’s a classic. And then, of course, there’s karate--”

“But I’m talking about letting loose! Karate is so structured. Don’t you want to do something new? Something spontaneous?”

“I...haven’t really thought about it.”

Jowan stood abruptly, grabbing his bag and tossing books into it. “Come on. We’re going. If you’ve forgotten what fun is, it’s my job to remind you.”

He looked so serious. Raven suppressed a smirk and decided to humor him. “All right. If you want karaoke, karaoke it is.”

* * *

Unlike a good many people, Zevran enjoyed his job. It paid his bills, of course, and didn’t interfere with his taijutsu training, but it was more than income or convenience. He liked being around people. He liked the music -- even when sung badly, it showed someone was stepping out of their comfort zone to dip their toes into something new. And of course, he liked the beautiful women and men who flirted with him night after night.

And _Cantare_  was a wonderfully unique establishment. One did not often find good Italian food at a karaoke bar. But the proprietor of _Cantare_  was a genius. There was a distinct separation between two sections of the bar, divided by a low wall. One half was set up as a traditional Italian restaurant, homey and comfortable. On the other side, the place was a club, complete with dance floor and karaoke stage. Somehow the two atmospheres blended seamlessly with each other. Zevran loved it, and so did the customers.

And tonight the place was packed. Zevran flitted from table to table without even enough time to flirt with the pretty girls and charming young men. No, who was he kidding? There was always time to flirt. But his efforts were limited to a playful wink or suggestive smile rather than the witty banter he so often enjoyed. He would have quite liked to find someone to share his bed that night, but alas, his chances were looking disappointingly slim.

He was at the bar picking up yet another drink order, his mind focused wholly on the task at hand, when he happened to glance toward the door.

The sight before him stopped him dead in his tracks.

Even in the packed restaurant, Zevran could not have missed the beauty before him. Silken black hair tied back in a prim bun. Smooth, radiant skin, the same dark color as his own. Full lips and a distinctive nose. She wore little to no makeup, and her shirt was simple and blue, buttoned all the way up to her neck.

She had a man with her, but a quick once-over told Zevran that he was merely a friend. It was obvious in the way he sized up the crowd, looking for opportunity. The disinterest in the beauty’s posture confirmed it.

The woman turned her head, scanning the room, her face utterly blank. And then her eyes fell on Zevran.

Zev’s pulse sped up, the excitement of possibility running through his veins. She was quite different from the women who usually came home with him, with their low-cut blouses and easy smiles. This beauty was something else, and he found her… intriguing.

Alas, her countenance as she regarded him didn’t change. No smile. No sign of interest. Just the same neutral expression.

Ah, well.

But then -- she blinked, and something flickered in her eyes. Her lips parted.

A second later, she closed her mouth and continued to scan the room.

As signs of interest went, it was not much, but it was enough to convince Zevran that his attention would not be entirely unwanted. At the very least, he could introduce himself as he took her drink order, test the waters…

Ah, to make this lady’s acquaintance, he would take the extra time to flirt and risk the anger and low tips of the patrons waiting for their food and drinks.

The beauty’s friend pointed to a table near the dance floor and began walking to it. The lady in question shook her head, grabbing him by the arm and tugging him towards the more comfortable side of the room. The friend looked dismayed, but he followed her lead.

 _Yes_. They were sitting in his section. Zevran suddenly realized he was standing frozen, drinks in hand. He hurried toward the appropriate table, his mind whirling all the while. It was not the time for forward advances, no, not yet. He would take her order with a charming smile, let his eyes linger on hers for just a moment longer than necessary -- wait, what was happening?

Isabela had reached the table before him -- on the other side of the room entirely from her section. She was grinning seductively at the beauty, hip cocked invitingly as she wrote something on her order pad.

No. Oh, no. This could not be allowed to stand.

Zevran intercepted Bela at the bar. “That was my table.”

Isabela shrugged. “You don’t mind, do you? A woman like that -- she looks like a challenge. And you know how I enjoy a challenge.”

Zev narrowed his eyes, uncertain why her words bothered him so much. “I do mind, actually.”

Bela raised an eyebrow in surprise. Neither of them had ever interfered in the other’s pursuits before. “You have your eye on her yourself?”

There was no need to answer that, so he didn’t.

Isabela laughed. “Far be it from me to stand in your way. I think I may have a chance with the couple in the corner over there. This one’s all yours, pet.”

With a wink, she handed the drink order to Zev and sauntered away.

Zevran glanced back at the table where his beauty was sitting. She looked distinctly uncomfortable as she watched the stage, where an older gentleman was singing Elvis Presley. A challenge, Bela had said. Yes, that was one way to put it.

But the word “challenge” implied -- it was hard to articulate, even in his own mind as he hurried back toward the bar. A challenge was something you devoted yourself to, something you pushed through all obstacles to obtain. A woman was something else. One did not continue to pursue a woman once a lack of interest was established. An obvious standard, but an immovable one. And despite knowing that Isabela followed the same rule, he bristled at the use of that word.

But here he was, contemplating rejection already. Such was not the way to begin an endeavor. There was no reason this beauty could not be warming his bed tonight. He was a handsome, charming man, and she was--

Goodness, he hadn’t needed to build himself up this way in years. He forced himself to focus on work, impatient for the moment when he could finally speak to her.

* * *

“Stop looking so scared.”

Raven blinked. “I’m not scared.”

She didn’t like the look of her best friend’s grin. “Then you won’t mind getting up on stage with me,” Jowan said.

“Won’t mind -- wait a minute, I never agreed to that.”

“You can’t come to a karaoke bar and not sing.”

“Oh, yes, I can.”

To Raven’s dismay, Jowan ignored her, jumping to his feet. “I’ll be right back.”

“No--Jowan--”

But her objections were in vain. Jowan strode away, leaving her alone and frustrated.

Suddenly a drink clunked down onto the table in front of her, Startled, Raven looked up to see a handsome man with shoulder-length blond hair and a distinctive tattoo on his cheek smiling at her. “You ordered the lemonade, yes?”

His accent was Italian. Raven liked it. Lord, he was good-looking. She’d noticed him when she first walked in. But men like that did not pay attention to women like her, so she simply nodded.

His smile broadened, and Raven’s mind raced. Had she said the wrong thing? Was he laughing at her?

“This is your first time here, no?”

His words took her aback. “How did you know?”

“Ah, my dear, such a woman as you? Had you been here before, I could not have forgotten.”

Raven’s cheeks grew warm. What did he mean by that? There was nothing noticeable about her.

“My name is Zevran,” he went on. “Zev, to my friends.”

“Oh. I’m...Raven.”

“Raven.” Her name rolled off his tongue, sounding melodic. “A beautiful name for a beautiful woman.”

Raven didn’t think she could speak. Beautiful? That was not a word people used to describe her. She couldn’t look at his face, focusing instead on his collar.

Oh. That wasn’t the best place to look. His black shirt looked like high quality silk, and the top two buttons were undone, showing just a hint of the smooth skin of his chest--

The man--Zevran--set Jowan’s daiquiri on the table and bowed slightly. “Should you need anything, my dear, I am <i> _entirely_ </i> at your service.”

With one last smile, Zevran walked away.

She almost didn’t notice Jowan taking his seat across from her. “That waiter has the hots for you,” he said without preamble.

His words dragged her out of her thoughts. “What? No!”

“Oh, yes.”

Raven always appreciated Jowan sharing his observations about people. She was terrible at reading facial expressions herself, and Jowan understood. There were reasons they’d been best friends since childhood. But this time, she couldn’t quite wrap her mind around what he was saying.

“You’re teasing.”

“Of course not.” Jowan looked offended. “I wouldn’t tease, not about that.”

No, he probably wouldn’t. Raven looked over her shoulder and found Zevran a few tables down, jotting something down on a pad. As if sensing her eyes on him, he looked up, his gaze meeting hers.

She jerked her head back forward, and Jowan laughed quietly.

“You _are_  teasing.”

“I’m not, I swear. Scout’s honor.”

“Are you a scout?”

“No. It’s just a saying. Look, that man is into you. I can see it. He looks at you like you’re the only woman in the room.”

“He doesn’t. He’s--I’m--”

“Oh.” Jowan leaned back in his chair. “You want him, too.”

Raven’s face got hot, and she glared at her friend. “Shut up. I did not say that.”

“What?” Jowan lifted his brow in question. “You deserve to get laid. How long has it been?”

She had to think back. “Two--three years?”

Jowan sputtered. “Good lord, woman.”

“Shut _up_ , Jowan!” Raven glowered at him in a way that was meant to be threatening, but she suspected it had little effect on him.

“I’m just saying! Look, there’s a man right there who’s practically drooling over you. Take him home. Tonight.”

Raven paused, considering. Could she? She shook her head. “No, that’s--that’s not how I do things.”

“But it could be.”

“I don’t--”

“Oh!” Jowan jumped up. “That’s us!”

Raven hadn’t even heard Jowan’s name called, but he was grabbing her by the hand and dragging her to the stage, and there was little she could do about it.

“Oh my god,” she said to nobody.

And then she was standing in front of a microphone, looking out at an enormous audience.

“Jowan--” she hissed.

But Jowan wasn’t looking at her. He was staring off into the distance. “Shit!” he cried.

“What?”

“That’s my phone! Hey! Asshole!”

And then he was gone. Just--gone. She was standing utterly alone on the small stage with what felt like thousands of eyes on her.

The music started.

She needed to move. She had to get out of there. She wasn’t even sure what song was playing. But her feet were glued to the floor. The microphone loomed in front of her.

“It looks like you’re in trouble there,” said a quiet voice in her ear. “Can I help?”

She turned her head. Zevran stood next to her.

Mutely, she nodded.

He took her hand and gave it a squeeze. She found herself gripping his hand back tightly.

The music boomed through the bar. **Dum da da dum da da dum da da dum da da…**  Without taking his eyes off her, Zevran leaned toward the microphone.

_“You keep saying you’ve got something for me. Something you call love, but confess.”_

Ah, Nancy Sinatra! Raven knew these words.

_“You’ve been a-messin’ where you shouldn’t’ve been a-messin’...”_

Zevran could sing. The words sounded gorgeous in his sexy accent in a way Raven would never have thought possible for this song.

_“...and now someone else is getting all your best.”_

Okay. She could do this. Raven took a breath.

” _These boots are made for walking, and that’s just what they’ll do.”_ Her voice was small as it joined his, but Zevran quirked his lips in a small smile and squeezed her hand again. _”One of these days these boots are gonna walk all over you.”_

**Dum da da dum da da dum da da dum da da…**

This wasn’t bad. Emboldened, Raven raised her voice.

_“You keep lying when you ought-a be truthing. And you keep losing when you ought-a not bet.”_

Her days of choir in her youth came back to her, and Raven slipped into an improvised harmony. _"You keep same-ing when you ought-a be a-changing. Now what’s right is right, but you ain’t been right yet.”_

Zevran’s eyebrows shot up, and he grinned broadly as they went into the chorus. _“These boots are made for walking, and that’s just what they’ll do. One of these days these boots are gonna walk all over you._ ”

**Dum da da dum da da dum da da dum da da…**

This wasn’t bad at all. This was...nice. Good.

In a moment of sheer braveness, Raven stepped closer to Zevran. His smile changed in a way that she didn’t understand, but then he slipped an arm around her waist, and her heart jumped into her throat.

The rest of the song passed in a blur, and when the last notes died out, Raven was actually...disappointed.

Zevran slowly pulled his arm back, but he reached for her hand again, fingers sliding deftly between hers. With his other hand, he grasped the microphone and looked out over the audience. “That song goes out to the man who oh-so-kindly abandoned the stage earlier. I’m thinking this young lady might get herself a pair of boots.” He smirked. “And if she doesn’t, she’s more than welcome to borrow mine.”

The crowd laughed and applauded, and Zevran looked at Raven again, then stepped backwards toward the side of the stage, pulling her gently with him.

When they were off the platform, Zevran leaned in close to murmur in her ear. “I’m afraid my break is over. Sadly, I must return to work. But perhaps I may speak to you later?”

Despite her boldness only a few moments ago, Raven suddenly couldn’t get her voice to work. The way his eyes penetrated hers… it undid her.

She nodded mutely.

Zevran leaned infinitesimally closer, and Raven’s breath hitched. But then he stopped, tilted his head, and released her hand. “My lady.”

WIth that, he stepped backward, then hurried away.

* * *

“I can’t believe it. My phone.”

Raven glowered at the table.

“Fuck, it had all my pictures on it.”

 _You should have backed them up_ , Raven thought, but she wouldn’t give Jowan the satisfaction of speaking to him.

“And it’s brand new. I’m going to be paying the phone company for--hey, what is it?”

Oh, now he noticed. Raven pursed her lips tightly together.

“I meant what I said. I’m sorry about before. Really, Raven, I am. What was I supposed to do?”

 _Maybe_ not  _leave your phone sitting on the table? Or not drag me up on stage?_

“It worked out for the best, didn’t it? That waiter--”

She spoke finally. “His name is Zevran.”

Jowan’s eyebrows shot up. “You’re on a first name basis?”

Raven gritted her teeth. She was not ready to forgive him yet and start dishing about men. “Shut. Up.”

“But this is fantastic! What time does he get off?”

“I have no idea.” He’d only stopped back at their table briefly to refresh their drinks and smile fleetingly at her before rushing off again. So much for speaking later.

“You should find out. At least one of us can get laid tonight. It’s almost worth losing my phone.” Jowan groaned and put his head in his hands. “My phone…”

 _At least one of us can get laid tonight._  Could Raven do it? Go home with a stranger? The idea made her nervous, but it also sent a thrill through her that she couldn’t deny. He was so handsome, and he was into her. A relationship would be a bad idea--she didn’t have the time in her life to commit to something like that--but a one-night stand?

The sound of a throat clearing made Raven look up, and her pulse started racing. Zevran. It was Zevran.

“Forgive my intrusion. Raven?”

She couldn’t look at him. She was too nervous. “Zevran.”

He chuckled. “You remembered my name. I wasn’t sure you would.”

“It’s--very distinctive. Hard to forget.”

“On the contrary, I would say. People often mispronounce it. Zavier. Zander. That sort of thing.”

“Oh.” Raven felt silly. “I suppose that makes sense.”

Out of the corner of her eye--she still couldn’t quite look at him straight on--she saw Zevran glance away, then back. Perhaps he felt trapped and was looking for an escape. Honestly, she was awful at reading body language, and she hated it.

“May I speak to you...in private?”

Raven looked at Jowan, who was still covering his face in his hands, bemoaning the loss of his phone, no doubt. No chance of him getting up and leaving them alone, then.

She sighed. “I’m not sure we’ll be able to.”

Zevran froze. “Ah.”

God. She stared at the table, even more unable to look him in the face, and tried to think of something to say. If she wanted to go home with him--well, how did someone initiate that kind of thing? She searched her mind for the right words, but her mind was unhelpfully blank. She sat there like an idiot, willing him to say something else.

But Zevran, too, was mute.

And then he bowed politely. “It’s been lovely to meet you, my dear.” He sounded distant, and Raven didn’t understand the change. “Is there anything else I can get you?”

“I--no, I--”

“I’ll leave you be, then.”

Raven sat there helplessly as Zevran walked away.

* * *

Zevran should not be so disappointed at this loss. A woman was a woman, and this one might have been more intriguing than others, but there were always other possibilities. The bar was filled with attractive ladies and good-looking men…

And yet, the thought of bringing home someone else left him cold.

Nothing to be done. Her polite rejection could not have been clearer, and although it filled him with pain for reasons he didn’t quite understand, he had to accept her wishes.

Despite his strict orders to himself to put the incident behind him, Zevran kept glancing at her table. There was no way around it, she looked miserable. Perhaps he had ruined her night. Ah, just what he needed, guilt added to the ache of rejection.

Her friend was speaking to her rapidly, but Raven would not look at him. She stood abruptly, threw some money on the table, and strode decidedly toward the door, pushing it open and stepping through without looking back.

Zevran’s heart was in his stomach. That was it, then. For good.

The bar had mostly cleared out, which gave him far too much time for thought. His tips were only average tonight. He hadn’t been able to focus properly on being attentive to the guests, and no doubt it showed.

Raven’s friend stood. Why Zevran was still watching the table, he had no idea, but he started in surprise as the man’s eyes met his, narrowed in determination. He tossed more money on the table and began to approach Zevran.

Perhaps the man intended to berate him for imposing himself on Raven. Such a lecture would not surprise him.

Zevran forced himself to smile at the couple in front of him as he set their plates of spaghetti on their table, then turned to Raven’s friend, resigned to his fate.

What came next could not have shocked him more.

“She likes you,” the man said.

Zevran blinked. “Say that again?”

“My friend. Raven. She likes you. A lot.”

A bark of laughter escaped Zevran’s lips. “Her behavior suggests otherwise.”

The man shook his head in exasperation. “That’s just--Raven. She’s shy. And awkward. And she ruined an opportunity she very much wanted.”

Hope blossomed in Zevran’s chest. “You’re certain?”

“Certain enough to give you her number.”

Excitement at this new opportunity raced through his body. “You would do that?”

“Give me your phone.”

Zevran eyed the man warily. “I’m not certain this isn’t a trick. Perhaps you seek to replace the phone you lost today.”

The man rolled his eyes. “Fine. Give me a napkin, then.”

Pursing his lips, Zevran handed Raven’s friend his pen and order pad.

The man scribbled some numbers on it and handed it back. “Text her. But be polite. If I find out you disrespected her, I know where to find you.”

This from the man who had abandoned her on the karaoke stage tonight. Zevran narrowed his eyes. “I would never.”.

“Good.” Suddenly, the man slapped Zevran on the shoulder. “Good luck, then. May the both of you have a good time.”

* * *

It was 2:30 am when Raven’s phone beeped. She was still up. Sleep had eluded her, so she’d pulled out her books and taken the opportunity to study.

It was probably Jowan. Raven ignored it.

It beeped again.

WIth a sigh, she grabbed the phone, ready to send Jowan some angry retort. But the number on the screen wasn’t Jowan’s.

She didn’t know whose it was.

In confusion, Raven tapped the message button, and the new texts popped up.

_Forgive me. This is Zevran. Your friend led me to believe a text from me would not be unwelcome. However, should you not be interested, I will of course leave you be._

Raven’s breath caught. Quickly, she read the second text.

_I had wondered if you might be inclined to meet me again. I am free tomorrow evening, and if you are also available, I would very much like to see you._

He liked her. He did want her after all. She hadn’t bungled this irreparably.

A relationship was still a bad idea, but a date? The chance to make up for what she’d missed tonight? Yes, she wanted it. Her fingers fumbled for the keys as she typed her reply.

_I would like that._

A moment later, her phone pinged again. _I am very glad to hear it._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These Boots Are Made for Walking by Nancy Sinatra: https://youtu.be/SbyAZQ45uww


End file.
